


cafe latte.

by turnaboutcafe



Series: cafe backrooms and serendiptuous shenanigans. [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:53:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnaboutcafe/pseuds/turnaboutcafe
Summary: when part-time barista part-time volleyball player bokuto koutarou is made to train the new coffee shop recruit, he quickly finds that there was much more to training newbies than just coffee making instructions and milk foam.The new recruit’s name was Akaashi Keiji, student at the university just beside the coffee shop, the same university Bokuto had graduated from just the previous year. Attached to the profile was a picture of Akaashi, the photo probably sourced from some sort of photoshoot he’d done for the school yearbook or magazine. He was in a gray uniform, neatly done up blue tie a deep contrast to the stark white button up he wore under the blazer. His hair, slightly curly as if it had been permed, framed his pale face, gunmetal eyes firm and stoic as they stared into the camera.“Oikawa, looks like our new recruit will bring in more women than you currently do,” Bokuto teased, putting the profile to the side.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: cafe backrooms and serendiptuous shenanigans. [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774060
Comments: 3
Kudos: 96





	cafe latte.

**Author's Note:**

> part three of my self indulgent coffee shop series; i'm sorry for releasing this late!

The group of baristas sat in a circle, eyes focused on Kuroo as he hunched over a thick notebook, filled with pages upon pages of notes and haphazardly scribbled information in it. Bokuto, settled next to Oikawa and Sugawara on the sofa, looked at Kuroo, already beginning to nod off from exhaustion. He’d spent the previous night practicing his spikes until dawn, and the late nights he had to spend on weekends at the cafe was no help, especially when the monthly team meetings came around.

“What are the updates on the stocks left?” Kuroo asked, looking expectantly at Suga.

“We’re almost out of coffee beans, but we can probably last another day before we’re completely out of stock,” Suga mused, pinching his chin slightly as he pondered about the stock. “Oh, and we’re almost out of the dairy free milk that we usually use to serve the dairy free drinks, so we also have to get more of that. Otherwise, we should be good to go for another month.”

Kuroo nodded, face serious. At the look on his face, Bokuto tried to keep down the laugh that was threatening to escape his lips. Their manager looked so serious (in all frankness, he rarely ever did, considering his many slip ups and escapades with regards to spilling coffee); it was an amusing change.

“How about the pastry sales?”

“All good,” Daichi replied, nodding at a printed spreadsheet he’d placed on the table. “I wrote down everything there, and it seems like the pastry sales almost beat out the coffee sales this week.”

“That makes no sense,” Oikawa complained, shooting a look at the head of pastry. “We’re a cafe, coffee is supposed to be the main selling point!”

“Don’t get worked up over our successes, Oikawa,” Daichi laughed, clapping Sugawara slightly on the back. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, you know.”

“Any look is a good look on me!”

“Guys,” Kuroo called out, dragging everyone’s attention back to him. “We have to finish this meeting before Bokuto drops dead from exhaustion.”

At his words, the rest of the team turned back towards Kuroo, eyes attentive as they watched him, nodding as he continued the meeting with much seriousness.

“Before we go, there’s one last announcement,” Kuroo began. “We’re getting a new barista, and we need someone to train him while he’s here. Bokuto, I’m thinking of letting you show the new barista the ropes because you most recently learned it yourself, and the teachings of Iwaizumi should have stuck with you for the most part.”

At his manager’s words, Bokuto straightened up, chest puffed out in pride, earning a roll of the eyes from Oikawa, exasperation filling the brown orbs. Suga clapped him on the shoulder in support, Daichi giving him a big smile.

“Do you have the profile of the new recruit?” Bokuto asked, looking at Kuroo. Nodding, Kuroo opened the file beside him, flipping through the numerous papers within it before handing one to Bokuto. Receiving it with two hands, Bokuto looked down at the profile, observing the writing.

The new recruit’s name was Akaashi Keiji, student at the university just beside the coffee shop, the same university Bokuto had graduated from just the previous year. Attached to the profile was a picture of Akaashi, the photo probably sourced from some sort of photoshoot he’d done for the school yearbook or magazine. He was in a gray uniform, neatly done up blue tie a deep contrast to the stark white button up he wore under the blazer. His hair, slightly curly as if it had been permed, framed his pale face, gunmetal eyes firm and stoic as they stared into the camera. 

“Oikawa, looks like our new recruit will bring in more women than you currently do,” Bokuto teased, putting the profile to the side.

“No way!” Oikawa argued, making a grab for the profile, crinkling it slightly. As his eyes fell on the picture, they dawned in understanding, before the feeling was replaced with annoyance.

“Bokuto’s right, Crappykawa.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa complained, sending a well aimed hit at Iwaizumi for his comment. With a chortle of laughter, Iwaizumi retreated, bidding a quick goodbye at Kuroo and the surrounding baristas as he dashed out of the door, running away from Oikawa’s grasp.

At Iwaizumi’s leave, the other baristas stood up, sending quick smile at Kuroo as they left the shop. Bokuto, left with the task of retrieving the profile from where it had fallen meters away from the table, stuffed the paper into his bag, praying that it wouldn’t crumple on the journey home.

“Bokuto?” Kuroo called out, appearing next to him as he moved to leave the cafe. “Come in your cleanest uniform tomorrow, we need the new barista to at least get a good impression of this cafe.”

“I always give off the best impressions to people!” Bokuto insisted, pouting slightly. “I don’t need my best uniform to do that!”

“Sure, sure,” Kuroo laughed, waving his comments off. “I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

As Bokuto laid in bed that day, he couldn’t help but toss and turn as his mind played scenes of how his day could go the next day, torturing him as he shut his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep. But each time he did, his mind simply conjured up a new reality, his overthinking brain consuming his sleep.

What if he wasn’t a good teacher? What if Akaashi didn’t like the way he did things at the cafe? What if he forgot how to use the coffee machine?

Grumbling as his thoughts overtook his head, Bokuto held his spare pillow tightly in his arms, squeezing it as tight as he could, muscles tensing as if he was about to spike a ball, pillow crumpling under his grip.

_No,_ he thought, resolve strengthening. _Tomorrow is going to be a good day._  
  


* * *

  
  
Bokuto arrived earlier than he usually did the next day, the uniform he wore the cleanest one he had in the closet. By the time he had reached the cafe, no one was inside yet, leaving Bokuto to fumble with the spare key he had gotten from Kuroo months ago, trying to find out how to unlock the large cafe doors. One he did, he stepped inside, locking the door behind him.

The cafe had a certain allure to it when it was chaotic, when it was busy with people bustling around, trying to finish a new chapter of a book or getting piping hot coffee before their first class, but Bokuto would’ve argued that the cafe was much more so when it was quiet. Bokuto had rarely been the first in the coffee shop, when it was still devoid of people, but now he was here, he was glad that he had arrived so early.

There was a silent charm to the coffee shop, something special in the quietness of the cafe. The design was beautiful, even when filled with people, but when Bokuto had the opportunity to take in the whole cafe in its emptiness, he found himself drawn to it. The wooden floors were rustic, beautifully paired with the plush sofas, the warm edison bulbs hanging from the ceiling adding to the rusting beauty of the coffee shop. Even when silent, with not a single note of music playing in the background of the shop as it usually did, the area was charming, the soft whispers of the passing cars and streets outside calming him.

Without a thought, Bokuto grabbed a rag from the sink at the counter, beginning the typically painstaking process of wiping down the tables, slowly working over them one by one. However, Bokuto felt calm as he wiped the table, moving down the surfaces inch by inch, polishing them to perfection. There was something calming about the repetitive action he made as he whistled the tune to some pop song he’d heard Oikawa play one too many times on the cafe speakers, perfectly in tune with the gentle hum of the traffic outside.

As he continued to wipe down the tables, lost in thought, a knock sounded from the doors.

At the sound, Bokuto looked up, curious to see what had caused the sound. Walking to the large double doors, Bokuto peered through the glass. As he did, he caught sight of a familiar face, permed hair framing a softly shaped face, dressed in the uniform Bokuto himself was wearing. In his hands, he held a mug of tea, gunmetal eyes looking straight into Bokuto’s as he stood expectantly at the door.

Akaashi Keiji.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Bokuto opened the door (fumbling with the key for a whole minute before he managed to do so), greeting the barista with a bright smile. Akaashi returned the smile, albeit small, letting himself into the cafe with a bow at Bokuto. 

At the act, Bokuto laughed, waving his arms. “You don’t have to bow to me, Akaashi. I’m barely older than you, and I’m not necessarily your senior, if cafes even have a hierarchy.”

“I apologize, but your name?” Akaashi asked, hesitant as he spoke the words.

“Oh!” Bokuto laughed, slapping his forehead at his idiocy. “I didn’t introduce myself. Bokuto, Bokuto Koutarou. You can choose to call me anything you want, really.”

“Alright, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi nodded, hands clutched around the tea cup tightly. 

“You don’t have to add the honorific at the end, you know.”

“I apologize, it’s a force of habit,” Akaashi managed. 

“It’s no problem, you don’t have to keep apologizing either,” Bokuto laughed. “If anything, I’m the least likely to scold you out of all the baristas here. Anyway, since you’re here early, you can help me out with setting up stuff before we open at 8 AM.”

Akaashi nodded, taking the extra cleaning rag Bokuto had in his hands, setting his tea on the counter, quickly getting to work on wiping the tables at the opposite side of the room. As the continued to clean the tables, the silence between them was tense, awkward, almost as if they had some sort of beef that Bokuto wasn’t even sure existed (after all, he had never met Akaashi before, unless they’d passed each other in university before Bokuto graduated, but even the chances of that were slim at best). Despite Bokuto’s forced attempts to push a conversation between them, Akaashi’s responses were clipped, hesitant. Bokuto was sure that Akaashi wasn’t trying to be mean or unresponsive in any way. From his demeanor, even Bokuto could deduce that he was simply like that.

“Do you have any experience working at a cafe, Akashi?” Bokuto asked, looking at him.

“It’s Akaashi, actually,” Akaashi replied, emphasizing the ‘a’ sound in the middle of his name.

“Ah, sorry,” Bokuto laughed. “Akaashi. Do you have any experience working in a coffee shop?”

“I think I’ve worked at a coffee shop while I was in high school, but it was nothing serious,” Akaashi replied, picking off a nasty speck of molded pastry off the table. “I’m not sure how to work most coffee machines, though.”

“You don’t drink coffee at home?” Bokuto asked, looking at him with wide eyes. “What are you, super human? What kind of university student doesn’t drink coffee? What do you study anyways?”

“Creative writing and literature,” he responded, voice soft, barely travelling across the room as he spoke. “I’m hoping to become an editor at a publishing company someday, maybe.”

“Working at coffee shop is appropriate, then,” Bokuto responded, voice much louder than Akaashi’s. “After all, you can probably see most of the literature department here working on articles and the like after school.”

Akaashi nodded. “Coffee shops are interesting.”

Bokuto looked up at him, eyes curious. “Interesting?”

“The people you see coming into the shop are of all kinds,” Akaashi replied, voice slow, as if trying to choose the perfect words to articulate what he meant. “When you work at a coffee shop, every customer you serve, or every customer in the shop all have incredibly different personalities. For example, you and me have contrasting personalities, even if we work in the same shop and at the same position. That’s why most literature students choose coffee shops.”

“I didn’t know you knew so much,” Bokuto laughed. “But being a literature student is no joke, I guess. But even when you’re working on things like that, you don’t drink coffee? Do you get 8 hours of sleep a day or something?”

“I don’t. I just work through it, somehow. I have black tea on days that are particularly terrible on me.”

“You’re one of a kind.”

As he spoke, a sound came from the door, a key inserting itself into the whole as whoever was behind it twisted it open, entering the coffee shop with a jingle of the bell. As Bokuto turned, he saw Oikawa and Iwaizumi, side by side as they entered the cafe, as they always did. Silently, Bokuto wondered if they ever separated, or if they were joined at the hip.

“Ah, Oikawa, Iwaizumi!” Bokuto smiled, waving at them. “The new recruit came early, so he’s helping out with the tables. Akaashi, these are Oikawa and Iwaizumi, they’re also baristas at the cafe.”

“Nice to meet you, Akaashi,” Iwaizumi nodded, glancing momentarily at Oikawa, hitting him on the side as Oikawa said nothing. “Don’t be crappy, at least greet him.”

“Hi, Akaashi,” Oikawa smiled, slightly stiff. “Looks like the beauty average of the baristas increased significantly with your arrival!”

“Your presence amongst our employees brings it down,” Iwaizumi grumbled, earning a loud barrage of complaints from Oikawa as he moved to the counter, grumbling about what Iwaizumi had just said.

“Sorry about those two,” Bokuto grinned, sheepish. “They tend to do that; they’ve known each other for god knows how long.”

“Two decades too long,” Iwaizumi grumbled, fixing himself a cup of coffee as he wiped down the cashier and counter. “It’s a wonder that I haven’t decided t bury myself in the ground yet.

“Rude, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa complained, jabbing him on the side. “You couldn’t last aa single day without me!”

As their squabble continued, Bokuto and Akaashi finished up the remaining tables, leaving a grumbling Oikawa to wash the rags at the sink. With a beckon, Bokuto led Akaashi to the main area of the coffee counter, showing him the shining coffee machines with a flourish. At the sight of them, Akaashi’s eyes piqued in interest.

“Are those the coffee machines that the shop uses?” Akaashi asked, observing them closely. “They look incredibly modern.”

“You’re so formal, Akaashi,” Bokuto laughed. “Kuroo, the manager, spent a fortune on the coffee machine, but he’s probably broken even by now. There’s a lot of fancy settings, so you’ll probably have to learn them quickly.”

As Akaashi’s concentration zoned in on the machine, Bokuto began his long winded explanation of the different buttons and compartments on the machine, demonstrating the process with the pour of coffee beans into the grinder, muscles tensing as he ground the beans into powder. As they turned into manageable pieces of coffee beans, Bokuto poured water into the empty tank of the machine, slowly adding the coffee. As the machine whirred, coffee began pouring out of the spout of the machine, landing perfectly in the cup that Bokuto had placed below it, the smell of steaming coffee rising readily into the air.

“Voila!” Bokuto smiled, looking at Akaashi. “And then, you can do something fancy with the coffee, like this!”

Bokuto took the milk foam from beside him, mixing the foam slightly before he poured it on top of the still hot cup of coffee, wrist quick as he made swirling designs on the coffee, bringing a stripe down in the middle of the creamy design, pulling the milky foam into a leaf shape. Akaashi watched with interest as he continued to decorate the cup, latte art coming perfectly as he presented it to Akaashi, a wide smile on his face.

“And that’s latte art,” Bokuto announced, chest puffed out. “Cool, right? I learned it pretty recently, but I got really good at it.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t mess up 50% of the time,” Iwaizumi commented as he passed him, a teasing look on his face.

“You’re not supposed to say that, Iwaizumi!” Bokuto howled, shooting a glare at him. “You’re supposed to tell him how good I am?”

“One cannot lie in the sacred home of the coffee shop,” Oikawa replied, holding his hands up as if in prayer.

“As if you ever tell the truth about anything under this roof,” Iwaizumi quipped. Instantly, Oikawa picked up the broom he was using to sweep the floor, chasing after Iwaizumi with a yell.

“That’s what life is like with them,” Bokuto sighed. “Pray you don’t get a shift with both of them working at the same time; it’s a walking nightmare.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Akaashi let out a soft laugh, watching as Oikawa chased Iwaizumi around. His laugh was almost magical, soft, yet uplifting, lips turned up slightly in a smile as he did so, bubbles of mirth leaving his lips. As he watched the younger barista, Bokuto couldn’t help but left a soft smile leave his own lips, before the steaming coffee reminded him that he was still there.

“So, Akaashi,” Bokuto began, bringing Akaashi’s attention back to him. “Let’s start your barista training!”

With Akaashi by his side, the day semed to pass by so much more quickly. Bokuto, in charge of the hot coffee making that day, let Akaashi tail him around, teaching him the different recipes Kuroo had made for the hot drinks. Akaashi was a quick learner, observative as he watched Bokuto make various drinks for the customers, committing each recipe to memory like a computer, not even writing the recipes down to reference to. By the time lunch had rolled around, Akaashi had practically memorized every recipe for every hot drink on the menu, comfortably making them for customers, albeit not as fast as Bokuto due to his lack of experience.

“You make coffees really fast,” Bokuto commented, swirling whip cream on the drink in front of him. “You’re a natural. And you don’t drink coffee at all?”

“No,” Akaashi replied, smiling in the slightest as he handed off his drink to the customer. “It tastes weird, and it’s too complicated to make.”

“Your memory’s amazing too!” Bokuto commented, giving him a wide grin. “I’ve never seen anyone learn anything that fast.”

“Believe him,” Kuroo laughed, walking past the two mid-conversation. “When I trained Bokuto, it took at least a month for him to work on coffees without a recipe cheat sheet.”

“Hey!” Bokuto complained, sending a kick at Kuroo’s way, the black haired manager only dodging out of the way before his foot could connect with his backside. “I’m supposed to be the cool barista, you can’t undermine me!”

“I’m just stating facts!” Kuroo complained, filling up the coffee grinder with more beans from the back room. “I’m not undermining you, oh great Bokuto-san.”

“Mean,” Bokuto pouted, turning back to Akaashi. He was grateful that the shop wasn’t as busy at noon, barely anyone coming in for coffee during lunch hours, the other restaurants around the cafe significantly busier around this time.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi began, hesitant as he looked at Bokuto, “how long have you bee nworking here?”

“Maybe 3 months?” Bokuto replied, munching on the sandwich Suga (the cafe’s biggest blessing) had made for all of them to snack on during lunch time that day. “It’s just a part time job, I don’t work here all the time.”

“What do you do for a living?” Akaashi asked, nibbling on the corner of the sandwich’s lettuce. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Of course not,” Bokuto smiled. “I’m a professional volleyball player, I play in the division 1 league!”

“Really?” Akaashi asked, eyes widening slightly. “I thought you worked here full time, seeing as how you were so passionate with everything. But, if you’re a professional player, why do you still work here? Don’t professional athletes get pretty high salaries?”

“During the volleyball season, yes,” Bokuto pondered, eating another bite of his sandwich, “but it’s not as easy during off-seasons. Kuroo manages the shop, so I thought working at a cafe would be a good experience, in between training and everything. Also, it’s fun! Do you play any sports, ‘Kaashi?”

“It’s Akaashi,” he replied. “I used to play volleyball, but I stopped when I started college so I could focus on school.”

“Woah!” Bokuto exclaimed, eyes wide. “What position?”

“Setter.”

“You should toss up some balls for me next time!” Bokuto grinned, teeth showing. “I’m a wing spiker, it’ll be really cool.”

Akaashi smiled with a polite nod, Bokuto’s heart swelling in excitement. Finishing the last of his sandwich, Bokuto returned to his station behind the shiny coffee machines, Akaashi promptly following him, prepared to serve the next swarm of customers that always came with after lunch hours. 

As Bokuto had predicted, the amount of people after lunch in the cafe were astronomical. Bokuto and Akaashi, side by side, worked tirelessly on the drinks, hands barely visible as they moved at lightning speed, making cup after cup of coffee. There was a sort of rhythm that they fell into, making the drinks together instead of separately as they usually did. Bokuto ground the coffee beans, pouring the black coffee base and Akaashi finished it off, pumping any needed syrups and creams. Their rhythm was solid, working perfectly together as they topped each coffee off perfectly with a lid, handing off the steaming hot beverages to customers, who greeted the both of them with a large smile.

“Do people not recognize you as a volleyball player, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked, wiping off a coffee spill before he reached for the cup Bokuto had in his hand. “After all, being a division one player comes with the popularity.”

“Volleyball’s not that big of a sport here,” Bokuto laughed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “They rarely recognize any of the players outside games, except for the ones that have a cult following online. The setter on my team, Kageyama Tobio, probably has fangirls stalking him to his apartment. I’m honestly appreciative that I’m not subjected to that kind of life.”

Akaashi nodded, handing off a coffee to the expectant customer. “Do you prefer working here, or playing volleyball?”

“Is that even a question?” Bokuto laughed. “Of course I prefer playing volleyball, it is my job after all!”

The rest of the day fell into silence between them as they focused on the coffee making, eyes sharp as they continued to work tirelessly on the drinks, handing coffee after coffee to the expectant customers. To Bokuto’s relief, there hadn’t been a single order for a caffe latte, a drink that took significantly longer to make because of how intricate latte art was. They were stuck with making basic coffees, all the way from pure black coffees to cappucinnos, occasionally entertaining the odd iced drink when Oikawa and Iwaizumi couldn’t keep up with the amount of orders.

Akaashi, beside him, was coping surprisingly well with the amount of orders coming his way. He moved fast, working quick as each order came, working perfectly with Daichi, manning the cashier, and Sugawara, who helped transport the drinks to the seated customers. There ws a perfect harmony in the mess of the cafe, the chaos of the entering and exiting customers somewhat harmonious, calculated in the perfectedd system.

But it wasn’t long until the dreaded caffe latte order came.

“Bokuto, there’s an order for a caffe latte!” Daichi called out, sliding him a porcelain cup.

With a resigned sigh, Bokuto grabbed the cup, filling it with a coffee base, adding slight milk to it before he began mixing the milk foam. With interest, Akaashi looked down as he poured the milk foam on top of the coffee, eyes concentrated as he moved the tiny pitcher of milk foam, slowly forming an intricate design on the top of the dark coffee. Handing off the coffee art to the customer, Akaashi looked at Bokuto in amazement, eyes wide.

“You never taught me how to do latte art,” Akaashi commenced, looking at him. “Don’t latte orders come quite often?”

“I’m the only one who can do latte art out of all the baristas,” Bokuto responded, pride laced in his voice. “I learned it from looking it up online, but because I’m the only one who can do it, all the coffee orders come to me. It’s a double edged sword, really.”

“It’s really cool,” Akaashi commented, something edged in his voice. “I would like to learn that some day, even if I’m only a part time worker.”

“Sure!” Bokuto replied, smiling widely. “What days do you work? You don’t work every day of the week, do you?”

“Mondays, Wednesdays and Sundays,” Akaashi replied. “I have classes in the morning on the other days, so I can’t work then.”

“I have Saturdays off also,” Bokuto replied. “We can meet up here and use the backroom to practice some latte art. What time?”

“Close to closing?” Akaashi asked. “We can help close up the cafe too, for inconveniencing everyone by using the backroom.”

“You think too far ahead,” Bokuto laughed. “Closing time works for me, but I’ll be here the whole day, if you want to come earlier.”

A soft smile formed on Akaashi’s face. “Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

The day passed by even quicker than it had before, Bokuto’s head buzzing as he thought about the latte art session he had planned with Akaashi for the Saturday. As he worked, his mind conjured up all the things he could teach Akaashi, mind wandering to all the different, intricate designs he could teach him. As he daydreamed, he wondered what he could do to help Akaashi, mind wandering to picking a book out of the library to teach him, or bringing his own latte art supplies.

With a shake of his head, Bokuto closed his eyes. _Just teach him latte art like normal, it’s just like teaching any other barista!_

Only that every other barista wasn’t as pretty as Akaashi Keiji was.

As the shop closed up, Bokuto lingered behind with Kuroo, tasked with closing up the shop for the day. Akaashi had left much earlier, rushing to the library to continue studying for an upcoming test, the rest of the baristas bidding the youngest one good luck as he grabbed his books and rushed out of the room with a jingle of the entrance bell.

“He’s a pretty good barista,” Bokuto commented, placing the chairs upturned on the wooden tables. “He picks up things quickly, and he’s practically memorized every hot drink order we have.”

“Looks like someone’s interested in him,” Kuroo teased, waving his eyebrows. “You’ve already managed to fall in love with him, and it hasn’t even been a day!”

“Is Bokuto in love with someone?” Oikawa piped up, poking his head out of the backroom.

“I’m not in love with anyone!”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi huffed, a rare look of amusement crossing his face. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see you flirting with the new barista for the whole day.”

“I wasn’t flirting!”

“Was too.”

“Was not!”  
  


* * *

  
  
Saturday came slower than any day ever had.

The night before, Bokuto had stayed up, watching latte art videos until the early hours of the morning, eyebags evident when he walked into the coffee shop four hours too early, the bags under his eyes a painfully clear indication of how many hours he’d slept (if any). As he lumbered to a corner of the cafe, dressed in a carefully styled national volleyball uniform and ripped jeans, the baristas on call that day waved at him, a knowing smile crossing Oikawa’s face as he saw him, whispering something to Iwaizumi, who promptly hit him on the head.

As he settled down his belongings, aside from his laptop, he walked over to the counter, silently grateful that the line that day was short. Several minutes of waiting quickly brought him to the front of the line, Daichi at the counter. With a smile, he greeted Bokuto, a toothy grin shot at him.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Bokuto asked, looking at Daichi, curiosity bubbling in him.

“Looks like our second newest recruit is out on a date!” Oikawa cut in, shoving himself beside Daichi, eyebrows moving teasingly. “How early did you come? We haven’t seen hide or hair of Keiji-chan at all!”

“I’m a customer, at least serve me!” Bokuto whined. “I want an iced americano, whip cream on top.”

“An iced americano in the afternoon?” Oikawa repeated, eyes bugging out. “Do you have any idea how much caffeine is in an iced americano?”

“Don’t pretend like you’ve never had coffee at midnight,” Iwaizumi quipped, smacking Oikawa on the back of the head. “We all know your caffeine addiction is much worse than anyone else’s here.”

“Iwa-chan!”

Daichi smiled. “One large iced americano with whipped cream, coming right up!”

Nodding, Bokuto walked back to his seat at the corner of the cafe, opening up the notebook he’d brought with him. It was filled with his small handwriting, stats and numbers written all over it. Scanning over the notebook, he grabbed a ballpoint pen from his messily organized bag, jotting down quick notes on a starting formation for the team he had in mind, quickly scribbling the layout of the court, putting the names of his team mate in the two by three formation they’d always used on the court, shuffling around the positions, the new plan an unorthodox one, one they’d never attempted before.

“Head in the clouds, Bokuto?” Iwaizumi asked, settling the drink he’d ordered next to him. “You’re making a new formation for your team?”

Bokuto nodded. “I didn’t come here to just do nothing, you know. Unlike some people, I have work to do.”

At his words, Iwazumi turned to look at Oikawa, busy chuckling away at the counter with a blushing girl. “I guess some people’s jobs include picking up and flirting with customers so we get more revenue, but I guess we all have our own ways of going about life.”

Letting out a laugh, Bokuto waved Iwaizumi away, focusing back on his notebook. As he continued to write, his mind began to wander, thoughts progressively growing further and further away from the volleyball formation and stats he was going over. As he looked out the window, he saw himself working with Akaashi in the backroom, gently leading his hand to create the perfect swirl on the latte, slowly guiding his hand with his own, bringing the milk foam on the blob in the coffee down the center, pulling the design down into a heart shape. 

As he saw it, he shook his head, ungelled hair swishing around as he did so. He had more important things to think about than daydreaming about his coworker-trainee.

“Bokuto-san?” a voice called out, bringing Bokuto’s gaze away from his notebook. In front of him, Akaashi stood, a pile of books in his hand. He was dressed impeccably, a long brown trench coat layered over a tucked in knit cream sweater, cuffed jeans accentuating the length of his legs. Horn rimmed glasses were perched on his nose, large frame hiding part of his face, gunmetal eyes still shining from under them.

Mentally shaking himself from his thoughts, he smiled at Akaashi, shifting himself on the sofa to make space for Akaashi. “Hey, Akaashi. I thought you had classes?”

“The professor cancelled them for today,” Akaashi replied. “Can I sit at this table?”

Something in Bokuto leapt. “Sure! It’s much funner to study with someone, anyway.”

Nodding appreciatively, Akaashi at himself in the chair opposite Bokuto, settling his laptop on the table. Quickly he opened something on the screen, fingers flying over the keyboard, writing something on it at lightning speed.

“Geez, Akaashi,” Bokuto gawked, impressed. “How fast can you type?”

“Fairly quickly,” Akaashi replied, eyes not leaving the screen. “I’m one of the editors for the university’s student newspaper, and I write for it too, so I have to be able to type fast.”

Akaashi ignored Bokuto’s gawking, turning back to the computer screen. At the diversion of his attention, Bokuto turned back to his notebook, scribbling more notes on defensive strategies, quickly filling the paper up. But, no matter how much he tried to focus on the notebook, his eyes were brought back up to Akaashi’s.

The concentration on his face as he worked on his laptop wasn’t unlike the one he had whilst learning how to make coffee. His eyes were sharp, focused entirely on the computer screen, brows slightly furrowed each time he pressed the backspace key on the keyboard, lips pressing together slightly. There was something perfect in the way his glasses perched on his face, placed perfectly on his tall nose, large frame only accentuating the soft curve of his jawline, dark color a sharp contrast from the pale skin. His hair, still in their soft, wavy state, looked like it had just come out of a salon, shining even under the low light of the orange edison bulbs.

Akaashi Keiji was pretty.

“Do you need something, Bokuto-san?”

With a jolt, Bokuto snapped out of his trance, looking at Akaashi. “Uh, yeah!”

“What is it?” Akaashi asked, head tilting slightly as he looked at Bokuto.

“I was wondering if you wanted to start the latte art learning a bit early,” Bokuto began, “because I don’t want to keep you back for too long. I’m sure that you probably have a lot of work to do back in your dorm.”

“Sure,” Akaashi nodded, closing his laptop, eyes shining slightly. “I’ll meet you in the backroom, then.”

Nodding, Bokuto’s heart lifted, palpitating the slightest bit erratically as he gathered his belongings, quickly making his way to the backroom. As the other baristas saw him, they shot him a teasing glance, but he ignored them, moving straight to the back. The latte art supplies he’d set there during his previous shift were still there, seated neatly on a table he’d pulled out the night before. As he took a seat, Akaasi walked into the room, giving him a nod of greeting.

“Hey,” Bokuto began, watching as Akaashi settled down his belongings. “Since we’re not drinking the coffee, you don’t mind me using premade coffee for this, right?”

“Anything that’s comfortable with you.”

“Alright!”

Slowly, Bokuto began to show him the different designs he’d picked up from his three months working at the cafe, beginning with the simplest. Akaashi held the milk foam pitcher over his own coffee cup, tongue stuck out slightly as he tried to replicate Bokuto’s design, concentration shrp as he worked on his own coffee cup. But, as he brought the milk foam down the center of the art to pull it into a leaf shape, the white came out lopsided, foam resting on top of the coffee instead of pulling down a line in the center of the shape.

“And there’s the last design!” Bokuto announced, proud as he showed it to Akaashi. Akaashi’s own latte art was much less perfect that Bokuto’s, the beginner mistakes Bokuto had made when he’d started coffee making evident in the art. Akaashi looked at his own coffee with slight distaste, lifting off the milk foam with a spoon, moving to try again. 

“Don’t sweat it, Akaashi,” Bokuto chided. “Not everyone can do something like this on their first try!”

Determindly, Akaashi nodded, moving to try again. As Akaashi began pouring the milk foam again, a head poked out from behind the backroom door.

“Are you two lovebirds done with your date?” Kuroo asked, laughing as he watched the two of them.

Akaashi’s face flushed, barely visible under the dim light of the room. “It’s not a date, Kuroo-san. Bokuto’s just teaching me how to make latte art.”

“No fair!” Kuroo wailed. “I’ve asked him to teach me so many times, he never does!”

“Why’re you here anyway, Kuroo?” Bokuto asked, turning to look at him.

“We’re short on people, Bo,” Kuroo announced. “Can you come in as a barista for a while? Just wear the spare apron in the back, I swear I’ll pay you overtime in your monthly check.”

“You’d better!”

As Kuroo left, Bokuto grabbed the spare brown apron from a corner of the backroom, tying it over his waist. “Hey, ‘Kaashi, I’ll be back in a while; I’m not sure how long Kuroo wants me out for. You can use my coffee cup to practice too!”

With a nod, Akaashi turned back to the coffee, leaving Bokuto to brave the chaos of the coffee shop outside. People were everywhere, rushing around as Bokuto flailed to keep up with the coffee orders, hands moving faster than it’d ever before. Kuroo, stationed at the cold drinks machine, was also working, looking up every so often to look at the recipe list they had pasted up in a surreptitious corner of the counter.

The day passed by with a blur, Bokuto out for two hours before he finally had a chance to take a break. Turning around, he noticed the light in the backroom was still on, emitting a soft glow through the small window attached onto the door.

Was Akaashi still working on the latte art?

“Hey, ‘Kaashi?” Bokuto called out, looking into the room. “You still there?”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi greeted, nodding. “Could you help me with this?”

Bokuto walked over to where Akaashi sat, watching as he poured the milk foam onto the coffee cup, still unable to get the intricate swirls Bokuto had so easily made in front of Akaashi the previous time.

“Here, you have to do it like this,” Bokuto commented, placing his own hand over Akaashi’s. Slowly, without thought, he led Akaashi’s hand, moving it around the coffee cup to make swirls all around it. Akaashi’s hands were colder than his own, smaller than his calloused ones, yet it felt comfortable to hold. Akaashi’s mild cologne found its way to him slowly, travelling to him as he took soft breaths, breathing ghosting Akaashi’s neck slightly.

“And that’s how you do it!” Bokuto announced, pridefully showing Akaashi the cup. “See?”

As Bokuto turned his face to look at Akaashi’s, he froze. Akaashi’s face was only centimeters from his own, noses almost touching. Akaashi’s eyes were wide as they stared into Bokuto’s, breaths soft, tickling Bokuto’s face in the slightest. Bokuto dared not to breathe as he stared at Akaashi, the hand he had rested on Akaashi’s stiff. For a long moment, neither moved, simply staring at each other, centimeters away from touching.

“Akaashi—”

Before Bokuto could say anything, Akaashi leaned in, lips pressing together in a soft kiss. It was tender, hesitant, saccharine sweet. Akaashi’s hands stiffened in uncertainty, but pressed forwards, Bokuto stiffening for a moment, before returning the kiss. It tasted bitter and sweet simultaneously, like whip cream on coffee, deep tastes swirling through his tongue. Akaashi’s touch on his hand was tender, the stiffness of his hand softening after a few moments, moving deeper into the kiss.

As they pulled away, Akaashi gave him a hesitant smile. “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you should have,” Bokuto laughed.

And at his words, Akaashi’s lips found his own again.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! a kudos and comment would make my day <3


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